Our Favour

 

Anai Says:

This morning we went to the Doctors. On our last appointment, he postponed the procedure a day in order to time the insemination better. Dr. Salguero called it ‘Following the Spontaneous Cycle.’ To arrange a ride for early this morning, we stayed the night at my Aunt and Uncle’s house. We’ve stayed there before for something similar. Last time we were here, Jen braved going in to get her vision corrected.

Their house is so lovely and cute, and what I would love in a house. It has the same thing as ours; three bedrooms, two bathrooms. It’s smaller though and everything fits in nicely. Jenni and I shared a twin bed, which we are usually the best at. We are the queens of cuddles. The only flaw in the way we like to sleep is that there’s a lot of skin contact (what?! That’s a problem?!) Only in plus 30 degree Celsius and one-hundred-damn-percent humidity. 

Jen let out a half asleep grunt if I leaned too close to the middle of the bed.  I wanted her to be comfortable and relaxed but the mosquitos sensed her magnificent–childbearing-white-girl-blood and they feasted on the richness of her foreign and exotic substance (I woke up without a single bite.) We did not sleep too well or much at all. Our giddiness didn’t help either. Phrase of the night: Go to bed Jen.  

I wasn’t the one in the backless dress today. I was more of the hand holder and the inappropriate joke maker. I kept my cool on the last task and kept, the several new names for spunk that popped into my head, to myself. That head of mine was buzzing because of it all. These are our choices, our decisions and our actions. Yet, they do not always feel real. Maybe it was because my main task was hand-holder, and ‘sssht don’t take that picture’ girl, that it hasn’t sunk in. Perhaps, I am trying to let it take its time. We are entering, what I can only imagine is, a long two weeks as we wait for the results of this morning’s procedure.

We haven’t made a plan yet. If we can find them here, we might jump into doing an early pregnancy detection test.  Yet, they can give you both false-negatives and false-hope. We can wait until Jen’s blood test on the 11^th of May. Or just wait until Jen’s period is late and let the up-coming week might distract us a bit.

I am due for an appointment on Monday. Maybe that might quell our nervous excitement or add to it. I’ll be having an ultrasound and checking up how my follicles have grown and if the hormones I am taking will result in a few more percentage points in our favour. If I’m lucky we will be setting a date for my insemination.  

There are so many things we can dwell on while we wait for Jen’s pee stick day. Stats being a part of each of those things. Straight from the man that crutches his own numbers, Dr. Rodrigo Salguero says with each attempt to get pregnant we were looking at 25-30%. It's hard to visualize what that is. I thought about it a while and made it into my own layman terms. 

 

Say I flip a coin and call tails. It spins up and then back down and it might land on tails. I will have been right and I've won. Good for me, except that I still have half those chances. I don't know if that's a bit bleak, optimistic, or just plain wrong (probably the latter) but either way it seems irrelevant.   Because there is no way of knowing if Jen or I will fall into the seventy percent or the lucky thirty.

Chances be damned because they yield no true result. In the end, when we are making our way back home the chances will have turned tables and will be on our side. With three attempts each, which is what we've budgeted our time for, leaves us at an 85% chance of conception. Not too shabby but way still too simpleton.  Conception and chances of pregnancy do not necessarily mean that there is a child.  I don't really want to live by the stats. I do not really want to let them rule me. I know Jenni feels the same.

She said something to me, in one of our many discussions about the chances. She said. If someone told you, you had 25% chances of winning the lottery there is no way you wouldn’t buy a ticket.

Another wonderful woman, my mother, said something along that line too. Everyone here has already won the lottery. The Doctor used 80 million spermies (yes, we call them that among other things) for Jenni’s insemination. One of those could very possibly be our child, just like one of them out of all those millions resulted in each of us.

The odds are there and they are really just numbers, none that can tell you what the next two week will be like, or the week after that. In the end, it’s not a numbers game. It’s a waiting one.

Boo. Hiss. Argh. Woot Woot.